Unpainted Serpent
by VVild
Summary: My nightmares had always involved the moon...The descent, and ascension of "Amon", in first person perspective and mostly during teenage years. Lots of internal and external conflict laced within this story. (I do not lay any claim on Avatar or its characters.)
1. Chapter One

How long had I been here? It seemed as if I had become permanently merged with this chair. I sat there, shuffling through dozens of scrolls and books, and searching through shelves, my eyes darting from character to character, word to word, and yet, I knew this would be little match for experience. I had been bordering on homelessness and starvation for so many years, but my talents kept my young belly full on the neediest occasions. This near-empty library was falling apart, lights dim creating a dusky atmosphere, signs of rot, windows cracked and covered in grime. I had to say that I sympathized with the state of the structure, on most part.

My eyelids were were heavy, and my skin felt cracked and coated in stone. I needed a shower, or a bath, or just some sort of comfort, but my research could not cease, and I could not allow these desires to let me falter, and I knew I'd find a way. I always found a way, anyhow. It was at this moment that I heard the familiar noise of rusted hinges, and creaking of floorboards as another person stepped into the library—although, there was also a polluting noise of metal against metal. I lifted my head, straightening my spine as well against the chair. It was either that the library was so quiet, or that the metallic sound was so intense.

"Sorry, I won't be here long," I heard a voice, which sounded female, from the direction of the door and I figured it was the one causing the noise. My eyes drifted back onto the pages in front of me, and I tried to keep reading, but the words seem to be blurs, and before I could process it, my muscles softened, and I felt myself slip away beyond my control.

"Excuse me?" A voice shattered my fading consciousness, my eyes creaking open and nostrils inhaling the sweet scent of paper and ink. I yawned, my eyes settling on the woman in front of me. She stood there, tall—no, looming—and was dressed in grey, more or less neutral attire, but by her facial features I discern that she was most likely Fire Nation. "I was wondering if I could burrow your pillow...the book you were snoozing on. Hello?"

"I apologize, ma'am," I spoke, simply, my eyes meeting hers, "I've had a rough day." My eyes fell back onto the book, which was laid open in front of me and indented slightly by my face. It was one of the volumes in a series of history tomes on the Earth Kingdom, and this one in particular was focused on achievements in Earthbending. I wondered how she recognized it or maybe she was just trying to use it to strike up a conversation...anyhow, I had closed the book and lifted it towards her. "Thank you," she said, absently as her eyes were fixated on the title of the book, and as she grabbed it from me I heard the metallic noise again—of course, I knew it was from her.

Her eyes scanned the collection around me, and a small light shone in her eyes, mixed with some sort of amusement on her features, "As an historian's daughter I can definitely appreciate this selection." She was in her teens, around my age, if not a bit older than I. Sharply, her eyes met mine and it felt as if they pierced me, "And you're from one of the Water Tribes, hm?"

"And you're Fire Nation." My features and voice was unwavering, despite feeling as if I had suddenly been stabbed.

Her features softened, and she laughed,"Well, I'm not trying to hide it." She pulled out a chair from the table, and sat down on it without a single care for grace. There was the metallic sound again, especially more prominent as she moved her legs—it was growing obvious that this girl was missing some of her limbs, and it intrigued me. She put the book back on the table, one of her hands on it as she leaned forwards in my direction, "So what is it, stranger?"

"You are quite prying for someone with missing parts," I said, simply, as I pressed against the back of the chair, and settled my eyes on her hand, noting that she was wearing gloves.

"I admit, I am being a bit prying," she said, weaving her words in a way that feigned innocence, "and, well, you are right, I am missing a few parts, but it's mostly due to Firebending accidents, nothing tragic or inspiring. I'm not that great of a bender." Mostly due to Firebending accidents. My eyes were still on her hand, and I watched as she used it to open the book. I broke my gaze, and reached for a book from one the nearby piles I had created, my movements stiff. In all honesty, I hadn't slept for days. I was losing interest in the girl, and so, I delved back into my reading, despite being incapable of processing most of the information due to my sleep deprivation.

For a few minutes, all I heard was the slight metallic sounds the girl created with her movements, and the turning of pages. After a while, I had started to notice that one of the lights nearby emitted a buzzing sound, and that was when I stood up. I couldn't stand this any longer, I needed to find some sort of warm hole to crawl into or something to sleep in. I looked at the stranger, and asked her if she wanted me to keep the books here, and she happily told me that yes, she would like me to leave them here.

I exited the building, and laid my eyes on the blinding lights of the town. It was already night, and the stars were shining, and the moon was a beautiful and empowering beacon of the sky. I inhaled deeply, and continued on, my gait becoming slow as time went on, eventually causing me to stumble into an alley. I pressed my back against the wall, and looked up at the sky again, and sighed. I could break away from this questionable life, surely, but I suppose I was too weak at the time. I ended up on the ground, and as I sat there, basking in the moonlight, my thoughts drifted until my consciousness faded away yet again.

I woke up, startled by the afterimages of dreadful dreams, and to a noise of someone in trouble. It was still night, but night was fading, and so I stood up, my movements more precise now that I got some kind of sleep, and now that I heard that someone was in trouble. I followed the noise, which seemed to be at the end of the alley, pressing my back against the wall and keeping my steps silent. I felt a sharp curl in my stomach as I took in the situation.


	2. Chapter Two

_My nightmares always involved the moon. I would see her beauty as she shone in the vastness of the night sky, however, attached to her were those ill memories, where I would see their faces, and I would remember the storm. I called the moon a she, as many did, but I was not limited by her. I felt as if we were on equal grounds, at times, but perhaps that was just my power clogging the innards of my skull. I could feel the power of the moon, and I could feel the power of my past, and that is all I needed from both of those. However, I was still attached to all those misfortunes, they made me who I am. In the end, perhaps I just hoped to be free, whatever that really meant, and the world to be free with me. _

* * *

I watched them, two kids, flinging bunches of rocks towards a small dog. The dog was whimpering and attempting to avoid the attacks as much as he could, but his back leg was twisted in such an estranged angle that he merely limped and struggled as he was hit. It was vaguely familiar, I saw—there was an explosion, the ground suddenly seemed as if it was liquid. I stumbled and grasped at the wall, hastily attempting to stay upwards. My ears were ringing in such an intensity, which made it feel as if someone was repeatedly stabbing into my ear.

It took several minutes for me to regain my senses, but as soon as I did I jolted upwards, and became prepared for any defensive. There was so much dust, I struggled to breathe. I heard panic, the wailing of a baby, someone calling out a name, and yet, what stood out most of all was a repeating and broken call for help. It was from the girl in the library, and being a familiar voice, I used it to guide me.

There she was, but I could barely see her. She was on the ground, grasping at her hands, with her gloves torn and on the ground near her. "Are you okay?" I asked, keeping my distance from her. She looked straight at me, her eyes tearing up...blood dripped from her hands, and so, I stepped forwards. "W—"

"Get away from me," she hissed, under her breath, and then coughed.

"You did this." I stared at her hands, noticing how gnarled her fingers were. I attempted to hold back a sneeze, but sneezed anyways.

"Someone did this to me." She pressed her hands against the dirt ground, and just stared downwards, "I c-can't control it." The dust was clearing now, slowly.

My narrowed eyes moved from her to the damage she wrought, a massive hole in the library and a nearby stone building was partly destroyed. I stepped forwards, and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her upwards to a standing position. I let go of her and faced her completely. "Don't stay here. Run." My eyes met hers, "I don't know your situation specifiably, but staying here wallowing in it _will not_ help you." She seemed to understand though her tears and obvious pain, and so, I watched as she fled. I fled also.

* * *

Visions of the kids beating on the dog, and of the girl's gnarled hands, which reminded me of burned tree branches, haunted me whenever I closed my eyes—I had managed to make some coin, and secure an apartment in the small village. It was an Earth Kingdom village, remote and humble, and when I had first arrived, it was rather relaxing, and fresh. I couldn't have gotten here on my own, for I had rather generous people to thank for my own survival, images of these people were also in my mind, but I did not feel...warm to me, they felt like...assets, tools of somehow, and my stomach turned at the thought. They were people, not assets. They were people, not tools, they had offered to help me, but they had no idea...

It was obvious that the library girl, or as she called herself "daughter of a historian", had a unique style of Firebending, and it seemed to be of combustion, but I had not seen it in action. It felt odd to me, somehow, her hands were twisted in such an alien way, and the way her hands bled...no, this didn't seem like some sort of natural ability. I sat there, in my humble but comfortable apart, holding my head in my hands and eyes following the small patterns in the wood, absently.

I had stayed here because of this odd occurrence, and I visited the library every day as it was being repaired. It seemed the accident brought the library to attention, and in turn, I believe it was getting some fashion of better funding. I stood up, slid on a jacket, and stepped out of the door, cautiously.

The building, that my apartment was in, was located high up on a rough and sharp formation of rock, which was also coated in vegetation, and generally rather wet. For being in the Earth Kingdom, this specific village had quite a bit of moisture within the air, and as aforementioned, it was remote. I could've spent the rest of my life here, honestly. I walked down the steps that were carved of the stone, and waved to some people I could call acquaintances. It had been a week since I had last saw this "combustion girl".

Whenever I had arrived at the same old library as where I met her, I sat at the same table where we first met, recalling her odd prying behaviour and ability to read me nearly every time. I considered it best that she came to me, and I was betting that she would, even if it was "arriving at the scene of the crime"—nobody, but her and the buildings, was seriously harmed, I believe. It was this day that I had heard the door creak open, so loud and resounding within the library despite the sound of construction work, and sound of her metal parts moving. I pretended to be indulging the book in front of me.

"Do you live here?" It was definitely the girl's voice, the one I had been waiting for.

"I rented an apartment," I looked up at her, and put my hand out on the table, "please, sit."

"Not here," she said, simply, her eyes never levelled with mine, unlike last time, "we should talk in a more isolated place."

"I agree." I replied, standing up and stretching. I heard some snickering from somewhere in the library, and I knew who it was—from what I heard of their whispers during the week I've been coming to the library, this couple believed I had a crush on this girl. It was great they thought that way, made the situation a bit...easier, on me. The snickering couple were there when I had first met her, as well, they were regulars like a few others I noticed.

The girl and I left the library.


	3. Chapter Three

As I was following her, I had no inkling of where we were heading, so I enjoyed the surroundings while we were walking in silence. The entire village was surrounded by foliage, and there was a waterfall—I could hear it getting louder as I followed her, and eventually, I could see its mist. Some kids ran past, laughing. I stretched, squinting my eyes against the early sun, and then we turned, sharply. We were now in a rather isolated area indeed, and so I stood there, as she turned around and faced me. She was wearing new gloves, and her clothes were only slightly different.

"So, we're in an isolated place," I scanned the area, which was a small opening in a place surrounded by a building and rock formation. I watched her movements, carefully. "Going to mug me, or something? I really—"

"I just want to ask," her voice was low, "What do you want with me now?" Her muscles stiffened, "I watched you, as you went to that library, and that very same table everyday. I knew it, you were waiting for me, ever so patiently, and look at me, I gave in."

"I want to help you," I said, firmly.

"And what can you do?" Her voice sharpened. "What can you do to help me?"

"I want to know who did this to you," I took a step forward, "and I want to help you control it, if possible." I didn't break eye contact, not for a moment, "I will not allow anything like this happen to anyone else, again." I watched as she stepped backwards, and so, I stepped backwards also, giving her space. Then, her face softened.

"Oh, my hero," Her voice was dipped in sarcasm. "But seriously—you must be insane. Are you even a bender?"

"I've studied so many styles, and forms of bending that it doesn't mater whether or not I am a bender. Most importantly, I've been studying chi-blocking, and eventually, I will find a way to permanently remove bending...so I hope, anyhow." Perhaps I was saying too much. "Just let me try to help you."

"Removing bending?" Her eyes widened, "Permanently? That sounds like Avatar-exclusive stuff, there's been no other recorded occasions in history beyond what Avatar Aang did."

"Chi-blocking proves that there may be another way," I said firmly, "and...you don't have to worry about hurting me."

"Oh, that's it! You have a death wish." Perhaps.

I was silent for several minutes, "Are you afraid of learning to control it, are you afraid of losing this destructive power—are you afraid of the people who dd this to you?"

"Yes," she said, her voice shaky, "I am afraid of those things, and more." She was trembling, by now. I wasn't sure of what to do—then she hugged me, and I stood there for a few moments before hugging her back. Being touched still hurt me, no matter what kind of touch, and I didn't quite understand it, but I tolerated it this time. I didn't know why, or how, she had warmed up to me so quickly, but I knew that I had to learn how to guard my identity far better.

I still didn't know her name. Perhaps she saw me, sitting at that table, struggling to sleep, and perhaps she merely sensed that there was something about me, some kind of hunch that lead to me offering to help her with her...bending problem. I stepped backwards, and spoke as she rubbed at her eyes, "When do we start training, then?"

"Tomorrow," she said, her eyes fixed on mine. "I know a perfect spot."

"Great...I haven't caught your name, yet. What is it?"

"Mireika, and your name?"

Noatak. "Illiivat. Pleased to meet you, Mireika." I bowed, Fire Nation style, to her.

* * *

It seemed as if she was not ready to tell me what had happened to her, but from what I knew, it was likely something to do with neglectful parents, or guardians. I couldn't sleep again, which was of no surprise, and so I sat there, staring at the ceiling but not really seeing the ceiling. I could hear my heart, and the rush of blood in my ears, as it was so quiet I heard the tiniest of things. I twisted onto my side, now staring at the wall—which was not that much of a change in scenery. It only took a few moments until I stood up, lit a candle, and worked on my painting.

I was always good with my hands, and during many restless nights I would merely paint, though I would never call myself good at painting—colours were uninspired, and mostly it was scenery that I painted, nothing truly daring. It was just to occupy my mind, a little hobby I could confide in when my insomnia was at its worst. I was running out of paint, although, and unfortunately, it also wasn't the easiest to come by around here.

I leaned back, looking at my work, and then set my tools down. My apartment was moderately small, and in turn, it sometimes felt like I was stuck in a wooden jar. I decided to go out, and get some fresh air. Opening the door, I stepped outwards and noted that there was someone else awake this late. I began walking down the hall when the person started to pretty much breathe over my shoulder, breaking my comfort zone quickly, and causing me to turn around sharply. The person was an adult, a woman by appearance, who had stern features as she stared at me.

Then, she pulled out a knife, and jabbed at me with it. I dodged it, the floorboards creaking as I got into a firm stance. She attacked me again, and I barely dodged this time—there was not a lot of room in this hallway, but I seemed to be managing. She seemed crazed, absolutely focused on harming me, or killing me. After a few moments of dancing backwards, I found a break in her movements and managed to knock her off balance.

"What do you want?" I asked her.

"I've seen you hanging out with my daughter."She lunged at me. I was cut in the side by the blade, cutting my shirt and causing a decent wound. "Her name is Mireika."

"Your daughter came to me," I replied, sharply, "you're attacking me for merely being near her?"

She didn't reply.

"How about we sit down...and talk about this?" I put my hands in the air, and stepped backwards. "This is probably some kind of misunderstanding..."

"Stay away from her." The woman, Mireika's mother apparently, stood still, and hid her blade. She, then, suddenly jabbed at me with her fingers, and was so quick that I barely saw her coming. She aimed at specific locations. I immediately got into a defensive stance, knowing what she tried to do, and kept my expression empty. She narrowed her eyes, and seemed to be about to attempt something else, before she heard the grumbling from down the hall. We had disturbed a few people with our scuffle. I watched the attacker as she started to walk away, and I placed a hand on my newly-gained wound.

* * *

As I tended to my wound, my thoughts had drifted towards that of healing found in waterbending. In the north, the enforcement of women being healers and men being fighters had lessened, but it was said that many still clung desperately to these oppressive traditional ways. It seemed like bending often added more separation than just by certain elements being unique to ethnicity, and sometimes only reinforced discriminatory actions and behaviour that had been plaguing the world for centuries.

I adjusted the makeshift bandage, hoping that it would do for now, as I wasn't all too experienced with traditional first aid. I slipped on a new shirt, which looked nearly the same as the one I wore when I was attacked, and pretty much fell onto my bed. So, I had made a new enemy, and it was of Mireika's mother, apparently, who also knew about Chi-blocking, and now knew that I was a bender. It wasn't going to stop me, of course, but I did decide I would force myself to be more attentive. I hoped that my new 'student' was still up for training—I was definitely more encouraged to learn about her situation, and hoped I would hear tidbits of story as we became more comfortable with being around each other.

I rolled onto my left side, and was there, pondering for a few hours before fading into a deep sleep.


End file.
